


The Best Christmas Gift

by Dreamin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, mentioned Greg Lestrade/Mycroft Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 16:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Molly gets a surprise at the NSY Christmas party.





	The Best Christmas Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SimplyShelbs16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyShelbs16/gifts).



> This is a TEH AU -- Sherlock comes home in December instead of November.

“Couldn’t you have waited until spring before being put in a Siberian prison?” Mycroft groused as he sipped his tea. It was December 21st and they were in his private plane on the way back to London.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t exactly my choice to get arrested.”

“Nonsense, you had almost everything perfectly planned. As you like to say, there’s always something, and in this case, it was the season. Really, Sherlock, Siberia in December?”

The world’s only consulting detective huffed then pouted like the schoolboy his older brother often made him feel like. “I lost track of the date.”

“Obviously,” Mycroft muttered. “Well, Mummy and Dad will be glad to have you home for Christmas.”

Sherlock winced. “I’d rather go back to prison.”

“After leaving me alone to deal with their endless questions for two Christmases? No, Sherlock, you **will** be there.”

Sherlock turned to look out the window. “How are they?” he asked quietly.

“Our parents?”

“My … friends.”

Mycroft pulled a small notebook out of his pocked and flipped through it. “Dr. Watson is engaged to a nurse who works at his surgery, a Ms. Mary Morstan. Their wedding date has yet to be determined.”

“Your assessment of her?”

“Capable, resourceful. To be honest-”

Sherlock snorted.

“To be honest, I suspect she’s more than Dr. Watson can handle.”

“That means she’s exactly his type. Gavin?”

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “Gregory Lestrade was reinstated to his former position six months after your ‘death.’ It would seem he learned something from you – his number of convictions has increased.”

Sherlock looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “When did you two start dating?”

His brother flushed a bit. “Last summer, three months after his divorce was finalized. Mrs. Hudson has taken up yoga.”

“And another small business owner, I’m sure.” He hesitated before deciding he had to know. “Molly?”

Mycroft smirked. “You mean Dr. Hooper?”

“Just tell me,” he muttered.

“She recently ended an engagement to an impressively unremarkable accountant.”

Sherlock glared at him. “And when were you going to tell me she was engaged?”

“It would have been a distraction, something you told me repeatedly you didn’t need. Besides, her engagement has been over for a month, what difference does it make?”

“Who ended it?”

“Does it matter?”

“I … I need to know her … emotional state.”

Mycroft smirked. “She did – it would seem she is still in love with you and didn’t want to settle for a man who is, frankly, a bad copy.”

Sherlock waved a hand in dismissal. “The ex-fiancé doesn’t matter. Is she bitter?”

“Have you ever known Dr. Hooper to be bitter about anything?”

“Does she … miss me?”

“That you will have to ask her.”

“You’re not going to tell me that ‘caring is not an advantage?’”

“Both of us know that where Dr. Hooper is concerned, you are well past merely ‘caring,’ little brother. Any attempt to dissuade you would be a waste of time and effort.”

* * *

“Hey, Molls,” Greg said cheerfully as he got in line behind her. “Glad you could make it.” This was the third year she’d been invited to the NSY Christmas party but the first time her shift allowed her to come.

Molly smiled at him. “Thank you.” She finished off what remained of her drink as she waited to get to the front of the line to ask for another. _He’s awfully chipper, even for someone who’s waiting on his third drink. I wonder if there’s a proposal imminent._

She glanced over at Greg’s boyfriend. Mycroft was sitting at a table off to the side of the ballroom, looking unbelievably bored.

Turning back to Greg, she grinned. “Your boyfriend looks like he’d rather be anywhere else right now.”

Greg chuckled. “He hates parties but I told him we just have to stay for the fun part then we’ll leave.”

“Drinking on NSY’s tab isn’t fun?”

He nodded towards his boyfriend, who was sipping from a champagne flute. “That’s the only thing that’s making this tolerable for him. No, the fun should start any minute.”

She was about to ask him what he meant by that when the sound of jingling bells and a loud “Ho ho ho!” could be heard. Molly turned to see someone dressed as Santa walk into the ballroom with a large bag of presents on his back.

“Santa” grinned at the assembled group until his eyes landed on her. He froze for a moment then he grinned wide as he approached them. As soon as he was within arm’s reach, he handed the bag of presents to Greg. “Be a good little Santa’s helper, Gregory, and distribute those, will you?”

Greg rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Sure, ‘Santa.’” He walked away with the bag.

“Santa” turned to Molly, grinning. “You’ve been very good this year, Molly Hooper.” If the sexy rumble of his voice wasn’t familiar enough, his blue-green eyes (now that she could see them better) would’ve given him away.

 _What is Sherlock doing back? Is he undercover?_ She was worried for him but managed to paste on a cheerful smile. It’s what she’d been doing for the past two years, after all. “Yes, I have, Santa.”

“And I’m sure you’d like to know what you’re getting for Christmas.”

She couldn’t help a smirk. “I did ask for a pony.”

Sherlock chuckled. “It’s not a pony.” He leaned to murmur in her ear, “But it is something you can ride.”

Molly stared at him. _Is he flirting with me?_ “Um, Santa?”

He grinned at her once more before taking off the hat, wig, and beard. Around them, she could hear startled gasps and at least one glass breaking as someone dropped their drink. Sherlock, though, heeded none of it. He simply gazed at her like she was the only thing he wanted for Christmas.

“I’m back for good, Molly,” he murmured as he took her hands in his. “Moriarty’s web is dismantled and the people that matter to me are safe again.” He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “And you are the one that matters the most.”

“Am I dreaming?” she whispered.

“If you are, then so am I,” he whispered back, grinning. “Am I a satisfactory Christmas present, Molly Hooper?”

She grinned at him. “You are the best, Sherlock Holmes.”


End file.
